- First, before we even got to Southwick Beach, we stopped in Cortland to grab lunch. Do you know what's in Cortland? The NY Jets training camp. Apparently having a PA license plate makes you an instant rival, and even if all you want to do is go through the McDonald's drive thru you get honked at and yelled at. True. Fucking. Story. Being from PA does not make necessarily make me a Steelers fan, NY! Stop hating!
- Our first full day was cold and windy and cloudy, so instead of going to the beach, we drove to Canada. Well, almost. We went up to Sackets Harbor and Clayton and walked around and had "bonding time", and I watched in amazement at how easily Hubby's SIL was able to pass off her baby (ole Grahm-aphone--remember him?) to anyone without both hands occupied. I don't think she ever actually held him except to feed him. It was some sort of wizardry, I swear.
- We were in charge of dinner that night, and we'd brought up pulled pork and various other things. It was pretty much a warm up and eat type deal. However, things quickly turned into a "Let's waste a lot of time doing absolutely fucking nothing just so I can drive you fucking batty" type deal. By the time we got back to our campsite, I was feeling homicidal. I hid in the tent while Hubby got dinner ready and kept myself amused by reading a murder mystery on my Kindle. I felt it was only fitting.
- Pig Dog and I both pulled up lame on Tuesday. Pig strained her hips or tail or both doing too much swimming and she didn't want anyone near her hind end. She crawled into my lap shaking and whining, so I wrapped her up in a towel and we had our own bonding time. To try to get her to stretch out a bit, we went for a short walk where I got bit by something ferocious on my toe which then proceeded to blow up like a sausage and burn and itch something awful. Pig and I hobbled back to the car and spent the rest of the night feeling sorry for ourselves.
- Hubby and I were very firm about needing to leave between 1 and 2 pm Wednesday so that we could get back before it was dark, but that obviously translated to leaving at 4. The hounds got ice cream, so they didn't care, but it was a long night--made even longer by waiting forever for Taco Bell to make a couple of fucking tacos. Now I remember why I never, ever eat fast food. There's nothing fast about it, and it sucks.
So there's your quick run down of this year's joyous vacation time.
I went out to the barn today, waited for my horse to get shod, and made a frowny face at NF when he came down to watch Bobby go in the arena and we agreed that he was a tiny bit sore in the LF. I probably should have pulled that shoe before I left. I ran him through our dressage test for this weekend and called it quits. Hopefully he'll be back to normal tomorrow and we can do some real work the next two days.